ASOIAF/GOT: The King in Black

Daniel's world narrowed into a cycle of training, work, and exhaustion.

The forge had become part of him now—his hands constantly carried the scent of smoke and hot iron, and his arms ached from hammering steel into shape. It was different from the pain of the training yard. Slower. Deeper. But just as relentless. The first few days, his grip had been clumsy, his movements stiff. Now, though, he could handle the heat. He could feel when the metal was ready to be shaped, could recognize when it needed to be reheated. He was no smith, not yet, but Donal Noye no longer watched him like he was expecting him to break something.

That, in itself, was progress.

At night, he trained with Jon. The improvement was slower there, harder to measure. Jon was better than him in every way. Faster. Sharper. More experienced. Every night, Daniel was knocked down, disarmed, left panting for breath as Jon corrected his footwork or pointed out the weaknesses in his stance. But he never stopped coming back. And he was learning. He still lost every fight, but now he lasted longer. His footwork was steadier, his strikes less hesitant. He recognized feints, could read the tension in Jon's shoulders before a strike came.

It was slow, agonizing progress. But it was progress.

The others had started to notice.

Not everyone. But some of them.

Jace, for one, watched Daniel with something close to awe now. He never asked where Daniel disappeared to at night, but it was clear he had figured it out. Clydas had grown quieter, less eager to mock him after seeing him hold his own in a fight longer than before. Even Ser Alliser had started making fewer comments—though that likely had less to do with respect and more to do with the fact that Daniel simply didn't react to his taunts anymore.

Daniel knew he was still weak. Still nowhere near good enough. But he had momentum now. And in a place like this, that was everything.

---

Three weeks passed.

Jon's expedition was drawing closer. It wasn't a secret—men whispered about it in the yard, in the mess hall, in the barracks. The rangers were going beyond the Wall. A scouting mission, officially, but everyone knew it was more than that. The Watch had grown restless. Too many things were happening, too many stories coming from beyond the Wall. Wildlings gathering in numbers not seen in years. Shadows moving in the deep snow. Villages abandoned with no sign of a struggle.

Daniel knew what they were really chasing.

The dead were rising.

And soon, the entire Watch would know it too.

He needed to decide what he was going to do.

Staying at Castle Black was safer, in some ways. He could keep training, keep building himself up. But there was no real power here. If he wanted to be part of what was coming, if he wanted to shape it, he needed to be out there. He needed to see the truth for himself, to understand it before the others did.

But there was one problem.

He wasn't a ranger.

If he wanted to go beyond the Wall, he needed a reason.

---

That night, after training, he brought it up with Jon.

They were sitting against the stone wall near the armory, both too exhausted to stand after the last hour of sparring. Daniel wiped sweat from his brow before speaking. "Think they'll take any new recruits on the expedition?"

Jon gave him a sideways look. "Why?"

Daniel shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "Seems like an opportunity. The men who go will get real experience. The ones who stay will keep shoveling shit and stacking barrels."

Jon let out a short breath. "You're not wrong." He was silent for a moment before shaking his head. "But no. Mormont won't waste supplies on untested recruits. He'll take the veterans, the ones he trusts."

Daniel expected that answer. "So how do I get in?"

Jon frowned. "You don't."

"I think I do."

Jon gave him a hard look. "You barely lasted two minutes against me tonight."

"Yeah, but three weeks ago, I barely lasted thirty seconds."

Jon exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Even if you had the skill, which you don't, there's no reason for them to bring you."

"I work the forge," Daniel said. "Weapons break. Armor needs repair. I could make myself useful."

Jon was quiet for a long time, considering. Finally, he sighed. "You really want this?"

Daniel met his gaze. "Yes."

Jon nodded slowly. "Then you need to talk to Donal. If he vouches for you, you might have a chance."

Daniel felt something tighten in his chest.

This was it.

The way forward.

"Alright," he said. "I'll handle it."

Jon pushed himself up, stretching his arms. "You've got a week before we leave. Better make it count."

Daniel didn't need to be told twice.

---

The next day, Daniel approached Donal Noye.

The forge was already burning hot by the time Daniel arrived, the air thick with the scent of smoke and steel. Donal didn't look up as Daniel stepped inside. "You're early."

"I need to ask you something," Daniel said.

Donal kept hammering the blade in front of him, not responding. Daniel waited. He had learned quickly that patience was necessary with the blacksmith.

Finally, Donal set down his hammer and looked up. "Go on."

"I want to go with the rangers beyond the Wall."

Donal gave him a flat look. "No."

Daniel exhaled through his nose. "I'm not asking for your permission. I'm asking if you'll put in a word for me."

Donal scoffed. "And why the hell would I do that?"

"Because I can be useful," Daniel said. "Weapons break. Armor needs repair. If something happens out there, you won't be there to fix it. But I could."

Donal studied him, expression unreadable. "And you're willing to freeze your balls off for that?"

"Seems better than wasting away here."

Donal grunted. "You think a few weeks in the forge makes you a smith?"

Daniel shook his head. "No. But it's a start. And I know enough to be useful."

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Donal exhaled. "I'll talk to Mormont."

Daniel blinked. He had expected more resistance. "Just like that?"

"You want to risk your life out there, that's your business," Donal muttered. "But don't embarrass me. If I vouch for you and you prove to be useless, I'll make sure you regret it."

Daniel nodded. "Understood."

Donal shook his head, muttering under his breath. "Idiots. All of you."

Daniel took that as his cue to leave.

As he stepped outside, the cold hit him like a wall. But this time, he barely felt it.

He had done it.

If Donal followed through, he was going beyond the Wall.

For the first time, he was stepping into the real game.

And he wasn't planning on coming back empty-handed.

---

Daniel wasn't an idiot.

He knew exactly what he was walking into.

The Great Ranging would fail. The Night's Watch would be shattered. And the dead—the real enemy—were already on the move.

So why was he going?

Simple.

Because staying behind wasn't an option.

This wasn't just about survival—it was about power. If he stayed at Castle Black, he would always be behind. Always reacting. But if he went beyond the Wall, he had the chance to get ahead. To understand the enemy before anyone else.

And most importantly, to find what he needed to kill them.

Because dragonglass existed.

It was the key to stopping the Walkers. And right now, no one in the Watch knew that except him.

'If I can find it first, I can control who lives and who dies.'

That was reason enough.

---

The next day, Donal Noye kept his word.

Daniel had just finished sharpening a blade when the blacksmith set down his hammer and gave him a long look.

"Mormont agreed," Donal said.

Daniel wiped sweat from his brow. "That's it?"

Donal scoffed. "You want a parade? You're going. Be grateful."

Daniel exhaled. "When?"

"Two days."

That was sooner than he expected. He had thought there would be more time, more planning. But the Watch didn't work like that. Decisions were made, and men obeyed.

Donal fixed him with a hard stare. "You die out there, that's on you. But if you make a fool of yourself, that's on me. So don't."

Daniel nodded. "I won't."

The blacksmith grunted, clearly unimpressed, and returned to his work.

Daniel turned away, letting the information settle in his mind.

Two days.

Then everything changed.

---

That night, as the barracks settled into restless sleep, Daniel sat awake, lost in thought.

'Obsidian. Dragonglass. That's the key.'

Fire could kill wights, but White Walkers? Only Valyrian steel and dragonglass.

Jon didn't have Longclaw yet. No one in the Watch carried weapons that could stop what was coming except Lord Mormont.

'So where do I get it?'

There was no dragonglass at Castle Black. That much was obvious. Dragonstone had mountains of it, but that was across the damn continent.

Beyond the Wall, though?

The First Men had used it. The Children of the Forest had used it. There had to be some left out there.

Ruins. Caves. Buried weapons forgotten by time.

He didn't know where to look.

But he'd keep his eyes open.

Because if he found it before the rest of the world even knew they needed it… that would change everything.

---

The next evening, Daniel found Jon near the forge, speaking with Donal Noye.

Standing beside him was Samwell Tarly.

Daniel walked up, nodding to Jon and then to Sam. "I got in. Mormont agreed."

Jon raised an eyebrow. "That was fast."

Daniel shrugged. "Donal put in a good word."

Jon exhaled, shaking his head. "Seven hells, you really are going, then."

Daniel smirked. "Told you I would."

Jon glanced toward Sam, then back to Daniel. "You already know Sam?"

Daniel nodded to the steward. "I observe."

Sam shifted slightly but gave Daniel a nervous nod in return.

"It's commendable," Daniel continued. "You've found your place. Being a maester's steward is good work. When things go bad, healers matter more than warriors."

Sam blinked, caught off guard by the statement. He hesitated, then said, "I—I just do what I can."

Daniel glanced at Jon, then feigned ignorance. "You're coming too, then?"

Sam swallowed. "Yes." He looked down. "The Lord Commander wants me there."

Daniel hummed. "Don't worry about it. Jon will protect you."

Sam chuckled weakly. "That's the plan."

Daniel smirked. "And I will too. That is—if I can protect myself first."

Jon sighed. "That's the part I'm worried about."

Daniel just grinned.

---

That night, Daniel sat on his cot, staring at the ceiling.

Rask was sharpening his knife again, the sound of metal scraping against stone filling the quiet space between them.

"You're actually going," Rask said. Not a question.

Daniel glanced at him. "Yeah."

Rask let out a short chuckle. "You're either the dumbest bastard I've ever met or the smartest. Haven't decided yet."

"Neither have I."

Jace sat up from his bed, looking at Daniel uncertainly. "You don't have to do this."

Daniel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know."

"Then why?"

Daniel didn't answer right away. He wasn't about to spill his real reasons. Instead, he leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "Because if I stay here, I'll never be more than I am right now."

Jace looked like he wanted to argue, but in the end, he just sighed and lay back down.

Rask smirked. "Well, try not to die."

Daniel closed his eyes.

'No promises.'

---